Ring the alarm, another is dying, whoa, aye Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye Ring the alarm, another is dying, whoa, aye
Ring the alarm, I don't wanna stay calm I'm about to rip this When the mic is gripped my lyrics do up like from Vietnam
'Cause I'm sweet, neat, I don't or skinteet I lick with my tongue And rhymes I with my teeth This lyrical prophet you stop this from the West Indies
You can tell I'm a lyrical from the words spoken and broken up In books and scrolls that I unfold The knowledge I use does make me The intelligence in my
Converts itself and wisdom in Trinidad, not Tobogo, land of steel pan and Calypso Cyop is a buck and a buck is a That's the true thing and a natural fact
This man you can't hold me back the red, the white, and also the black Island, which is my land, my place of You can tell by the that's swung
And the lyrical in me verse So all don't cross this border by now you should know sort of Lyrically but now I despise
All youth that's out of Don't try to any of the Schnickens 'Cause I'm not done the lyrical boxin' The beatin' and the
Ring the alarm, another is dying, whoa, aye Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye
You two-facety, you can't me And my rhymes you'll bite and you'll acknowledge my lyrical substance just like a bookworm Chip FU, you will extend and show all the youth them
That me big under roots and culture And the bad in the pen Because I grip the mic (Yes, man) All they do stop yes and hush
Any mic I touch, any mic I brush, any mic I With these lyrical styles of And if I do unleash a lyrical Lyrics never cease, then a piece I'll unleash and it brief
don't bite yes or thief C H I P FU is my name, it stay just the same Give me any mic on stage in a I'll engage And drop just the same
for quote, note for note, did you comprehend So jack it up and pull it up Wheel and come 'Cause MC's try these raps and sound like wanna-be's
But a wanna-be's not what I to be See the have to be The true prophets to preach FU-Schnick prophecies
We thee untouchable, matchable, stoppable MC's for Me, a Rastafarian, no not me but I do I'm not faking Jamaican, so all you better run Because Mr. Chip FU man a
And me sitdong pon de riddim sitdong de vibes A de don True me up a style and me wicked and wild With peer pattern how me chat it in a verb
And it in a noun Uno better I and I respect When this I come out
Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye Ring the alarm, sound is dying, whoa, aye
Phenomenon one, two, phenomenon three Come me POC the rough-neck chicken and I'm the wild Apache See I'm the C the H the I the P
Down the P the O the C, the K the U the N the G The M the O, yes and the C And the M the I the C is in my H the A-N-D I preach and teach and all ghetto youth about unity
But wait, let me get set not to But to get something All MC's come out good styles And all of them do sound
But ring the alarm and don't calm I won't procrastinate These lyrical styles that I To preach and and educate me, a new jack brother (Who's that)
When you were at the parties rapping and scratching I did a On tape, on tape and cassette, you'll me live and direct Yes and who hear me yet when you hear my voice it's perfect So just pack up because your lyrics are weak when you
Don't step so back up, wake up, take off the make-up The mic because break up MC's from limb, slim me trim You see me, I don't follow no and I don't follow no pattern
So take head to this lesson I bring or the lesson I Which was taught to one and All MC's better ring the alarm In words, run for cover